


Another Day in Beaver Hollow

by mixermiz907



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games), Red Dead Redemption 2
Genre: Arthur Morgan Deserves Happiness, Chapter 5: Guarma (Red Dead Redemption 2), Chapter 6: Beaver Hollow (Red Dead Redemption 2), Flashbacks, Hosea Matthews Lives, Micah Bell Bashing, Micah Bell Being an Asshole, Original Character(s), Pinkerton National Detective Agency (Red Dead Redemption), Post-Chapter 5: Guarma (Red Dead Redemption 2), Red Dead Redemption 2 Spoilers, Video Game: Red Dead Redemption 2 (2018)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:26:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28164714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mixermiz907/pseuds/mixermiz907
Summary: A collection of WIPS of Arthur during chapter 6
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

Death, it comes to all of us, Arthur knew this. He wasn’t prepared to die, but again- no one was. 

He threw his mouth into the pit of his elbow and coughed- blood. It was everywhere but this was a familiar sight. He’s been coughing up blood since he came back from Guarma. It was only a matter of time before the Downes debt would bite him in the ass, and oh boy did it bite him good. 

He slumped against the massive oak tree in camp, wheezing- trying to get any semblance of oxygen into his lungs, while also trying to remain inconspicuous.

“Ye alright there _Black Lung?_ Micah asked, patronizing him.

“Oh shut the fuck up you,” he wheezed before getting caught in another coughing fit, no fight in him today- of all days Micah could choose to be a pest he chose this one in particular.

“Leave him be Micah!” Arthur could hear his sister, Clara chide, her footsteps wobbly to compensate for her swollen belly. She may be Arthur’s younger sister but she always stuck up for him, or anyone Micah tried to bully in camp, really. 

“Oh her comes humpty slutty dumpty, couldn’t keep ‘er legs closed long enough to not carry _another_ child.”

“Just because I’m with child doesn’t mean I forgot how to point a gun _Bell._ Don’t forget or you may get some iron between the eyes.”

“Ou- scary scary Clara, I may just wet myself.” he chortled before recoiling.

Clara had punched him square in the nose. Breaking under the force of her fist.

Normally Arthur wouldn’t condone this kind of thing from his sister- but in this moment he was nothing if not proud of her for that. 

“Why you little bitch,” Micah spit on the ground before rolling his sleeves up.

Just then Thomas, Clara’s oldest boy, comes stomping over, “leave Mama alone or you’’ll pay Micah.”

“Ah so the bastard child comes to the rescue of his whore of a mother, how quaint.” he took a step toward them.

Thomas pushed him back, hard enough that he fell right on his rear, “I mean it Bell, lay a hand on my Mama there’ll be hell to pay.”

“Will you all give it a rest?” came the booming voice of Dutch himself, so high and mighty from his completely covered tent, “you are behaving like _children_ and that won’t be tolerated!”

“Thomas, sweetie, why don’t you take a walk, come back.” his mother patted him on the shoulder before wrapping both of her arms around his waist, the boy stood nearly a foot taller than his mother- it was like a human hugging a beanpole. 

He huffed but quietly obliged to his mother’s request, grabbing a rifle before leaving the threshold of camp.

Arthur finally sat down on his cot, pulling out his journal and a pencil.

“Another day in Beaver Hollow….” he wrote.


	2. Chapter 2

It was another day in Beaver Hollow for the Van der Linde Gang. The crisp air sailed through Arthur’s lungs like a drought through the Sahara, sending him into a coughing fit- no blood this time, however, to his relief.

He met Sadie the day before to plan the rescue of John and today they were to enact the escape plan. 

He sat up in his cot and began to put his boots on, looking over to the fire he saw his sister, Clara, running a hairbrush through her daughter Isabelle’s ebony black locks. He finished putting his boots on and stood up, opening the chest at the foot of his cot to grab his tanned leather jacket. He then walked over to the fire. 

“Coffee? she asked as her brother sat beside her. 

“Please.”

She poured some coffee from the carafe into his metal mug, “going out I presume?”

“Yes ma’am, meeting Sadie to do some- reconnaissance.” he winked, hugging the mug with his hands before taking a sip of the bitter bean juice. He only really drank it to relieve the itch in his sore, raspy throat and for the buzz it gave him.

“Getting John out you mean?” she covered her daughter’s ears as she whispered. 

“That’s the one.” 

“Well, please be careful and come back in one piece, ya hear?”

“Yes Clara, I will,” he said solemnly. 

“You want Thomas to help?” she asked as she resumed brushing Isabelle’s hair.

“Best keep him out of this, for now. Things aren’t going to go seamlessly when I return- I reckon.”

“Perhaps you’re right, Micah has been up Dutch’s behind all night spewing who knows what into his already neurotic mind.”

“Will you teach me how to catch a rabbit later Uncle Arthur?” Isabelle asked, her ice-blue eyes pleading. 

“Sure Belle. When I get back I’ll teach you how to catch a rabbit,” he promised, he stood up and ruffled her hair slightly- to his sister’s dismay, before walking back to his lean-to and packing up the gear he’d need for the day.

“Going out!” he called as he made his way over to Harley, his dapple grey thoroughbred horse equipped with a mahogany brown saddle, he patted her on the nose while feeding her an apple, took her lead, and led her out of the camp. When they were a distance away from the camp he halted, placing his right foot in the stir-ups and throwing himself onto Harley.

“Let’s go girl.” he clicked his heels into her sides and the pair were off to rescue John. 


End file.
